


Would You Freak Out If I Said I Liked You?

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 10:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8053270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Obviously, the first step after sleeping with Bellamy is to tell his sister about it. Clarke's pretty sure that's the protocol. It's polite, right? 
Right. Definitely.





	Would You Freak Out If I Said I Liked You?

**Author's Note:**

> FYI, I'm doing another December gift fic thing, so if you'd like to leave me a prompt, you can get information about doing so [here](http://chasholidays.tumblr.com/post/150097805711/2-holiday-2-prompts). You will need to have a tumblr to do so.

"I don't think I should try to say it was an accident," Clarke says.

Lincoln is looking unimpressed on the couch, which is honestly a little unnerving. Lincoln is _supportive_. Lincoln is optimistic. Lincoln is that friend who, when you screw up, tells you that you are a good person who still has value. 

Lincoln usually looks concerned and attentive, not like Clarke is making one bad decision after another, even if she maybe is.

"Why would you try to say it was an accident?" he asks, calm.

"That's what people say, right? Like--I didn't mean to sleep with your brother, it just happened. But it never sounds even vaguely plausible. How do you accidentally sleep with someone? It's hard enough to sleep with someone when you're actively trying to, half the time."

"And you were actively trying to sleep with Bellamy."

"No!" It comes out harsher than she intended, and she feels a little bad. Not that Bellamy is here to be insulted, but if she's this defensive with Lincoln, it doesn't bode well for her conversation with Octavia. She scrubs her hand over her face. "No, I wasn't--I don't even _like_ Bellamy."

"Ah, yes. That's the correct approach to take. _I slept with your brother, but don't worry, I don't like him_. Have you talked to Bellamy about it?" he adds, before she can even try to refute the point. 

"Bellamy already knows I slept with him. I don't need to tell him that."

"Mmm," says Lincoln. It is completely noncommittal, nonjudgmental, and infuriating. She doesn't know why she came to him, except that all her other options seemed worse, except for Wells. And they are roommates, so he's closer than Wells is. He was right here.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snaps.

"I've never slept with someone and decided the first thing I needed to do was figure out how to tell their sibling about it," he says, mild as ever. "Of course, I've never had a personal relationship with someone whose sibling I slept with. Well, I suppose I do with Bellamy, but I met him _because_ I was sleeping with his sister. But whenever I sleep with someone, clarifying what it means for us is my top priority."

"It was a mistake, it doesn't mean anything for us," she says, looking at her phone and not him. No messages.

"So, you don't like him and it was a mistake. I can see why you're worried about talking to Octavia."

"Why isn't there an _I fucked your brother_ emoji?" 

"I think that's one you have to put together yourself. It's too complicated for a single image. One of the family ones, the eggplant, naturally, something to convey--is it regret? I'm still having trouble with that part."

Clarke drops back onto the couch next to him. "God. What am I going to tell her?"

"I fail to see how it's your responsibility to tell her."

"Someone's got to do it," she says, which is not true at all.

Lincoln doesn't refute the point, though. "And why wouldn't Bellamy?"

It's a question worth considering. Clarke just sort of assumed he _wouldn't_ , in which case Octavia would never know. Even though she's an only child, Clarke is pretty sure siblings aren't wild about finding out about each others' actual _sex_ lives, so it seems entirely possible that if Clarke keeps quiet, Octavia can remain unaware of the entire thing. Which would be kinder. Because it's not going to happen again, so, yeah. 

"I think she'd rather hear it from me," she finally says, and tries not to think about it.

*

Not to be weird about it, but if _sleeping with friends and family_ was some kind of fucked up currency system, then Octavia would owe Clarke. Which is seriously not how these things work, but if they did, Clarke was the one who introduced Lincoln and Octavia, and they've been dating for a year, so Clarke thinks she was probably allowed to fuck Octavia's brother once. 

It was still a bad idea, but Clarke doesn't feel like it was entirely her fault. It takes two to tango, or whatever. And alcohol was involved. And, okay, they do _kind of_ like each other. Not liking each other is mostly fun, these days. She doesn't like him in the way where if she doesn't see him for a while, she'll pick a fight with him via text message, so they don't lose track of each other. And there's a certain kind of way people can annoy her where he's the only one she wants to tell about it. And it's not like he _doesn't_ text her. They're friends, if she's honest. It's just more fun to not be honest about it.

Sleeping with him had been the result of a lot of things: some people canceling on a group event, others leaving early, the two of them drinking and laughing and Bellamy being--honestly, very attractive. And funny. And fun. And she never liked how he was when he was _trying_ to be charming, all smooth and slick, but just _Bellamy_? She likes him. When he's being himself, he's this kind of quiet, insecure guy who doesn't quite know how to have friends. And that guy is a great guy.

The conversation turned to sex because Bellamy's friend Miller had been hanging out with them to hit on Clarke's friend Monty, and now that they were dating, they'd bailed on group drinks, presumably to get laid. Clarke said it had been a while for her, and he agreed, which surprised her, because, well, again, he's hot. And his charming act definitely works on people who aren't her. She hadn't seen him take anyone home in a while, but that was his business. And she hadn't thought it meant he wasn't getting _any_.

She'd pressed him on it because they never talked about these things, and she was curious. They'd chatted frankly about sex and sexuality, about figuring out they were bi, about how hard it can be to meet people, about likes and dislikes, and when they were saying goodbye, he stuck his hands in his pockets and said, "You could come home with me."

"Tonight?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just--it's been a while, right? Might be nice."

It was a clear invitation for one night of fun, and she was a little turned on just from hearing him talk about sex, so she'd agreed. The only surprise--apart from just how good it was--was when he told her to stay the night, instead of sending her home.

"It's like fucking four a.m.," he grumbled. "If you go home I'm just going to worry you got murdered."

"I'd get a taxi," she said, but she was already settling back in against him. She'd gotten off like five times, and Bellamy was all warm and firm and very appealing. She should have known he'd be a cuddler.

"People get stabbed in taxis," he said. "It's like you've never seen an episode of _Law and Order_."

There was something oddly comforting about post-coital bickering with Bellamy Blake. As long as they were still bickering, they'd be fine. This hadn't ruined anything. "If I'm going to get stabbed in a taxi, it could happen any time, not just at night. Are you sure you don't mind if I stay?" she couldn't help adding.

"I don't mind."

And it had been fine, up until she woke up in the morning and he wasn't awake yet and she couldn't really deal with being alone in his apartment. Which shouldn't have been a big deal, but she'd never been to his apartment before, and it was so strange, seeing all the parts of his life, what pictures he put up, what books and DVDs he owned, how he'd laid things out. It was a really _nice_ apartment, and she could imagine all too easily just grabbing one of his books and settling in until he woke up, at which point--

She had no idea what would happen at that point, so she left him a note-- _Hey Bellamy, I left at nine-fourteen, so if I get stabbed, it's because taxis are NEVER safe_ \--and went home.

Where Lincoln was, so she told him she slept with his girlfriend's brother, and now she is still stuck trying to figure out how to proceed with the situation.

"It sounds like you don't really have to do anything if you don't want to," Wells says, once she's given him an abbreviated summary of what happened. "You guys are two consenting adults. You had sex. You aren't required to disclose this to anyone."

"I guess. It feels like lying by omission."

"What does he think?"

"I haven't talked to him yet."

There's a pause. "Oh, yeah, I get it."

She'd like to say her voice comes out normally, but it really doesn't. "Get what? There's nothing to get."

"Do you have his number? Just call him."

"Why would I call him?"

"If it's just once, you don't need to tell her. But if you guys are dating or something--"

"We aren't."

"You haven't talked to him yet."

"I don't need to talk to him to know we're not dating. It was a one-night thing. Would you want to know if I had a one-night stand with your sister?"

"No!" he yelps. And then, "Wait, you didn't, right?"

"So, you would want to know," she says, smiling in spite of herself.

"No, I wouldn't. But once I know there might be something to know, I want to know. Fuck. Just tell me you have never fucked my sister."

"I have never fucked your sister."

"Just Octavia's brother. And you haven't texted him about it."

"I left a note. There's nothing to text about."

"Uh huh. If there's nothing to text him about, then there's definitely nothing to tell his sister about. So unless you talk to him, you can't talk to her."

Clarke frowns. "You make it sound like a punishment. I don't really want to talk to either of them about it. I just feel like I _should_ tell Octavia."

"I'm giving you permission to not tell her," says Wells. "But if you do, you have to talk to him first. Maybe he doesn't want his sister to know you fucked him."

"Why would he care?" Clarke asks, offended. "It's not like fucking me is _bad_. And his sister probably already knows a lot about his sex life. He picks people up when we're both around, so--"

"So, you want him to tell her."

"I don't want to do anything!"

"Which is why you called me to complain," he says, with maddening calm. He and Lincoln should start a _totally reasonable assholes_ club. She now officially has no one she can talk to about this, because everyone else will be _worse_.

"I thought I should tell Octavia. But if you and Lincoln think I shouldn't, awesome. I won't tell her. Thanks for your help."

"Text the guy," Wells says, and then hangs up before she can respond.

Clarke _could_ text Bellamy, but she doesn't really have anything to say to him. She could tell him she's thinking about whether or not to tell Octavia about them, but that would involve admitting that she's been thinking about it all day. That this is something she's worrying about.

He's clearly not worrying. It's not like he texted her. It's not like she's gotten a frantic call from Octavia about how Clarke fucked her brother.

So she got away with it. Not that she really _got away_ with anything. Like Wells said, she and Bellamy are consenting adults who had sex because they wanted to. It's a perfectly natural thing.

He could at least text to make sure she didn't get killed in her taxi, though. If he was really so worried.

*

It shouldn't be hard, not talking about sleeping with Bellamy. She doesn't talk about having slept with people all the time. She tends to be kind of private about this stuff, and she's never needed to brag. And she doesn't want to brag now, it's just--she slept with _Bellamy_. It doesn't feel like something they should be able to just bounce back from.

So when Octavia asks if she wants to get lunch the week after the hookup, Clarke honestly assumes someone told and this is the part where Octavia tells her she's been betrayed or disappointed or whatever people feel when their friends sleep with their brothers. It might be the part where she and Octavia have some kind of showdown about it. She doesn't know. It's uncharted territory.

But instead, when she gets to the deli, Bellamy is already there, sitting in a booth with his Nintendo DS and an expression of intense concentration.

It could be a coincidence, of course. He could just be eating here. But it's the first time she's seen him since they slept together, and even if it _is_ a total coincidence, it's still a lot to handle. He's wearing his glasses, like he usually does on the weekends, and a t-shirt that must have been a present from Octavia, a blue one with a pocket drawn on and a Squirtle poking out of it.

It's not news, that she's attracted to him. She has been for years, in an absent way, and it's only gotten worse since he moved to town. It's just news that he's great in bed and kind of her friend and she honestly thinks they could maybe have something. If he wanted. If--

If he hadn't just fucked her because he hadn't gotten laid in a while.

She texts Octavia, _Did you know I fucked your brother?_

The response comes almost immediately: _Enjoy lunch!!_

Clarke sighs and honestly thinks about just leaving, but Octavia went to some trouble to set this up. Just because she is suddenly aware that Bellamy is hot (which she _already knew_ ) and she wishes he'd called her (which she would have known, if she let herself think about it) doesn't mean she should be rude.

So she gets a sandwich and slides in across from him, counts to three before she nudges her foot against his. He startles, glances up, and then startles again. 

"You're not Octavia," he says.

"Neither are you."

"At least I share some DNA with her. I'm closer to being Octavia than you are." He wets his lips. "So--is she coming?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh." He rubs the back of his neck. "Maybe I shouldn't have told her? About, uh--I told her about what happened. She said I was acting weird."

"Were you?" 

"She's my little sister. She always thinks I'm acting weird."

It's not really an answer, and that's kind of comforting. "I was going to tell her, but Lincoln talked me out of it."

"Huh. Probably a good idea." She can see him hesitating, but then he closes his DS and puts his full focus on her, like he's deciced it's time for full effort. "So, uh--how's it going?"

She has to laugh. "Have we ever had a casual conversation?"

"Shut up. That was normal." 

"Sure it was. I've been acting weird too," she adds, because it feels like it's worth saying. He's being awkward enough she thinks it's probably safe. "But Lincoln and Wells just wanted to ask constructive questions about why I wasn't calling you."

"Dicks," he says, and she laughs. 

"Right?"

His smile is almost shy when he meets her eyes, but it gets a little easier when she smiles back. "I, uh--I wouldn't have asked you to stay if I was going to be upset that you were around in the morning."

"Oh," she says. "That's--I didn't have anything to _do_. I felt weird sitting on your couch playing on my phone."

"You could have woken me up." She just gives him a look at that, and he huffs out a laugh. "Yeah, okay. Maybe not. But--I was kind of disappointed."

It's enough honesty to make her heart jump. "I thought you'd text. To make sure I didn't die in the taxi or something."

"I thought you'd text to tell me you didn't."

They look at each other for a second, and then they both start laughing. Everyone else probably thinks they're nuts, but--

"I thought you were good at one-night stands. You have them!" she accuses, when they've recovered.

He catches his bottom lip in his teeth, doesn't meet her eyes. "Yeah. I'm good at one-night stands."

Bellamy is one of those people who's careful with words, one of those people who says a lot in the way he chooses to phrase things. He's not a liar; he's a very specific kind of honest.

And he wanted her to stay.

"I figured if I didn't tell anyone, we could just pretend it didn't happen. And then I immediately told two people and asked them how I could tell your sister."

"Which you didn't."

"Wells told me I wasn't allowed to talk to Octavia unless I talked to you first." She wets her lips. "You told your sister."

"I thought someone should kick my ass."

"And did she?"

"Just for not talking to you."

"Apparently we both suck at that." She taps on her Snapple bottle. "So, I really had a lot of fun. And I wasn't doing very well just--admitting that. And that I'd like to do it more."

She's expecting relief from him, but it's honestly a lot better when his voice is as guarded as ever. "Yeah. I could do it more. My sex life has been pretty pathetic lately."

"You're cute, you know that?"

That gives him pause. "No, I didn't know that."

"Well, you are," she says, and it feels insufficient, so she adds, "What does dating look like for you?"

She's pretty sure his laugh is as much a release of tension as it is amusement. _Now_ he looks happy. "What does it look like for anybody? It's dating. What is it supposed to look like?"

"I'm not a big fan of, like--" She actually has to laugh. "I was going to say doing the whole dinner date thing, but I guess this is kind of a lunch date. And it's--"

"Awkward as fuck?"

"I was actually going to say nice," she says. "But yeah. Also awkward as fuck."

"That's the best I think I ever do with real dates." He clears his throat. "So, I like you. You want to, uh--not get dinner sometime?"

"We're already not getting dinner," she says. "And I'm free to not get dinner for the rest of the day, if you want."

It's possible everyone was right about talking to him, because she didn't even know he _could_ smile like that. And she would have liked to know sooner. "Yeah. That sounds great."

*

**Me** : I fucked your brother again.

**Octavia** : Please don't text me every time you fuck my brother  
I assume it's going to be a regular thing now  
It had better be a regular thing  
Otherwise he'll get all mopey

**Me** : Definitely a regular thing  
Do you want me to come up with an emoji for it?  
You know, shorthand  
I could do that  
Lincoln had some ideas

**Octavia** : That's really not necessary  
Just be nice to him, okay?

**Me** : Yeah  
I'm planning to be


End file.
